Cliff Richards in Heathcliff 1996:
One of the oddest casting decisions in stage history is Cliff Richard as the rugged, passionate and violent heart-throb Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights.
Written by the singer himself and based loosely on the novel Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, the show saw Sir Cliff don a long black wig, grow menacing sideburns and sport a five o'clock shadow.
Even some of his hard-core fans could not restrain laughter when their idol went against type to protest: "I shall be as dirty as I please. I like to be dirty." (N_Banyard)

This won't be easy to explain, But here we go, Crack Magazine, Thump or Fact Magazine report that Dean Blunt's 'political brainchild' Babyfather has released a new track on soundcloud sampling Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights:

Pre-industrial literature from Canterbury Tales to Wuthering Heights describes a “first sleep” (sometimes called “beauty sleep” or “dead sleep”) and a “second sleep” in early modern English society. (Jessa Gamble)

We don't know about Canterbury Tales or other pre-industrial literature examples but there's no reference to 'first' or 'second' sleep in Wuthering Heights. The term 'first sleep' only appears in Chapter XXV of Jane Eyre as far as we can tell.

And then there is the property’s cemetery, where 132 members of the Riker family are buried, including Captain Abraham Riker, who died at Valley Forge on May 7, 1778. It resembles a secret garden—pleasantly shady and overgrown with ivy and, in the summer, thick with mosquitos. Some of the headstones are toppled, their engravings faded with time. The Rikers are rendered in initials—J.L.R., W.R., A.C.R., A.R., J.R., D.R., J.R.R.—like variations on a theme. Michael is buried there, as are her mother and brother. Marion is fond of the cemetery, and an old photograph depicts her standing among the stones, dressed in white like a Brontë heroine. (Susan Harlan)

Despite the renown of writers such as Harriet Beecher Stowe or Fanny Fern and two of Woolson’s favourites, Charlotte Brontë and George Eliot, Woolson seemed to internalise the prevailing prejudice against so-called literary women. As a result, there’s frequently something tepid about her prose, as if she tried to suppress her own passions to fit reigning cultural fashions. (Brenda Wineapple)

The Merrian-Webster website has a post on the use of 'literally' meaning figuratively speaking:

Is it ever okay to use literally to mean "figuratively"?
F. Scott Fitzgerald did it (“He literally glowed”). So did James Joyce (“Lily, the caretaker’s daughter, was literally run off her feet”), W. M. Thackeray (“I literally blazed with wit”), Charlotte Brontë (“she took me to herself, and proceeded literally to suffocate me with her unrestrained spirits”) and others of their ilk.

For example, in Charlotte Brontë’s classic romantic novel Jane Eyre, the love interest Rochester has a gruff and abrasive outward persona but a hidden tender quality. His flaw – his closed-off nature – is developed when Jane discovers a major, upsetting secret about him. The subplot of Rochester’s secret helps to explain why he has a guarded and intensely private persona.

2. Aunt Reed from ‘Jane Eyre’ by Charlotte Brontë.
If being orphaned is bad enough, you then have to suffer the wrath of this wretch? We wish we could say Aunt Reed has some kind of epiphany, but she doesn’t. Not really. (Sarah Clare)